The Secret's in the Telling
by alwayscastle-jenn
Summary: He didn't think that he could mess things up this much, but when it all becomes a reality, how is he going to fix it and put the pieces of her back together?
1. Chapter 1: Broken

**The Secret's in the Telling**

**Chapter 1: Broken**

**Disclaimer: If I owned Castle I'd probably not be stuck here for the Holidays in the cold and be off vacationing somewhere warm, but yet that is not the case.**

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><p>Castle sat at the counter of the Old Haunt alone, the bar had been empty for over an hour now, and yet he continued to refill his cup of scotch. He should head home, see how Alexis was, and his mother, but he couldn't bring himself to go back to the loft. He had been there too often in the last few days, staring at the same walls, feeling trapped. He had nowhere else to be, and it killed him. He left after dinner that evening, claiming he needed to get out, and watched the concern looks cross his daughters and mothers faces as he pulled on his jacket and scarf and left the loft.<p>

He wandered the streets for a few hours, not sure where to go, but definitely not wanting to return home. He couldn't be there, and he didn't want to be. It was hard enough to stomach everything that had happened when he wasn't just sitting and stewing in his thoughts in the loft. He watched the cars as they went by, the people walking on the streets, all with looks of determination, as if they had somewhere to be. He simply walked, he didn't know for how long or far, and didn't care, anything to take his attention of his own thoughts.

He had ended up at the Old Haunt a few hours later, and it was nearly midnight. He sent a quick text to Alexis, informing her of his whereabouts and telling her not to worry, though he was sure that it would only make him worry more. He debated turning his phone off, blocking out the world, but the last thing he wanted to do was miss a call or text from her if she finally decided to answer one of the million it seemed that he had sent her in the past few days.

The bartender gave him a small smile and nod, as he sat down at the end of the bar, grabbing himself a glass and the nearest bottle of scotch. It was half empty, nothing he couldn't handle, and poured himself a drink. A little alcohol to take the edge off, he thought, not that he hadn't already tried that, with little to no success resulting from it, nothing could take the edge off. He had royally fucked up; there really was no better way to put it. He couldn't even be angry with her for being hurt, and angry, it was his fault; his choices, that had gotten him in this position.

He swirled the scotch around in the glass, watching the circular motion it made in it, the sound of the ice cubes clicking against the sides fell on his ears, before he brought the glass to his lips and downed the rest of the amber liquid that filled it. The burn of it going down his throat a friendly feeling rather than a foreign one, which it should have been. He poured himself another glass, he could call a car to bring him home, or walk back, he didn't have to worry about driving, and if the scotch was going to be able to make him not think, than he was going to need a lot more than the part bottle that sat in front of him.

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><p>Kate Beckett got back to her apartment after long and exhausting day and threw her coat and heels off and collapsed on the couch. It had been a rough few days, and rough was quite the understatement. She looked at her phone, four voicemails and six unread text messages, and that was just from today. She should clear them, make them go away, delete them, anything, but she couldn't bring herself to do it. She didn't want to listen to them or read them, she couldn't hear another apology from him, or another plea for her to answer him, call him, text him, do anything to let him know that she was okay. She ran her hands through her hair, letting out a deep breath. She just wanted things to go back to normal, back to when she was trying to get healed, back when she was happier than she had been in months. Here she was, willing to try, wanting to move on from everything, and now that seemed like an impossible feat. She shouldn't let him get to her, but it was the one thing that sent her over the edge, and she couldn't let it go.<p>

She walked to her bathroom, dropping her clothing as she went, she would pick it up later. Right now she hoped that a scalding hot shower could wash away some of her pain. She was not going to let this get to her again tonight. She had spent the last few, alone, in her apartment trying to keep herself together and failing miserably. She tossed and turned at night, the nightmares back, and work was exhausting, she spent the entire day chasing down suspects and still had yet to get anywhere on the case.

Just as things were getting better, the shoe dropped, she knew they couldn't stay that way, they never did, and now it was like a chain reaction, an avalanche of stress and hurt was crashing down around her. Katherine Beckett wanted nothing more than to catch a break. Just a little bit of time where she could be truly happy, not have a care in the world, but clearly that was too much to ask. She scrubbed at her body in the shower as if she could scrub away the pain, but had no luck. She had held her tears at bay, and she was refusing to break down again, not another night. She didn't want him to get the satisfaction of doing this too her. She was a strong, independent woman, this shouldn't be affecting her, but it was her one weakness. He had found that small hole in her wall, and it had come crashing down, he had broken through, and she had let him, only for things to backfire in her face. She knew she kept that wall up for a reason, not letting people in, in order to keep herself safe, and this was just another reason to never let anyone through again. The wall she could rebuild, she was sure of it, and she had done it before, but she didn't know if she could rebuild herself right now, pick up the pieces that he shattered. She didn't want to have to, she liked being whole and healed, starting to become a little less broken, but now that it was no longer the case, the last thing she wanted to do was have to pull herself together.

She had no choice in the matter though, she let him in and now she had to face the consequences. Though it was easier knowing there were still things she had kept to herself. She had put herself out there, almost completely, but something in the back of her mind nagged at her not to do it, and she was glad she listened. She couldn't imagine the state she would be in had she been completely truthful, how much more hurt and in pain she would be right now. Her current state was bad enough though; there was no need to think about how it could be worse.

She dressed in pyjamas after her shower, curled up in her bed, her stomach growling in protest at the lack of food she had consumed over the course of the day. She couldn't be bothered by it though, she simply shut of the lights of her bedroom and pulled the covers up to her chin, praying that sleep would find her soon, that her thoughts would stop travelling at a mile a minute, and that she could have a peaceful night, free of the nightmares that had returned. But she knew the chances of any of those happening were slim to none. She didn't hold out for any of them to grace her.

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><p>Castle cursed himself as he finished the bottle in front of him. The Old Haunt closed, and everyone one gone home apart from himself. That was the good thing about owning the bar, always a place for him to escape. Although he generally would much rather be escaping with Kate at the precinct, or her apartment, even his. But he knew that wasn't an option. He debated calling her again, he knew his chances of just getting to leave another voicemail for her were higher than anything else, but he wanted her to know how much pain this had caused him, that it wasn't just her that was hurting.<br>He opted not to, knowing that she would know he had been drinking the moment he opened his mouth, and he would really rather her not. Instead car service would do, he had to get back to the loft, get some sleep, and hope that tomorrow he could wake up, get some writing done, and try to fix things all over again.

Alexis was on the couch asleep when he returned to the loft, she had been worried about him, and even more so than usual with him refusing to tell her what was going on. He placed a kiss to her temple, and covered her back up with the blanket.

"Dad?" She asked quietly, as she wasn't quite awake.

"Don't worry about me Alexis, I'm home and heading to bed," he answered her. He felt bad for the extra worry the girl had taken on due to his state the last few days.

"I love you, Dad," she replied, her voice low and mumbled as she begin to drift back into sleep. "Everything's going to be okay," she finished, letting out a deep breath and curling the blanket into her.

"I know darling, sweet dreams," he replied, though he knew that she would not hear it. He needed to believe that things would be okay, because if he was be able to believe it there was a slight chance that he could make it true.

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><p><strong>This is the first chapter to my new angsty little multi-chapter fic! Hope you guys all enjoyed it, and aren't in too much suspense as to what has happened. Please leave me some lovely feedback on what you thought! We are in for a roller coaster ride with this one when it comes to what I have planned out so far, so I hope you guys are looking forward to it!<strong>


	2. Chapter 2: Everything

**The Secret's in the Telling**

**Chapter 2: Everything**

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><p>Castle dragged himself home after what had been the longest dinner meeting of his life. It was close to nine o'clock and he had been in the meeting with Black Pawn since before six. So much for that quick meeting Gina had promised him when he finally agreed to it last week.<p>

He waited impatiently as the elevator traveled upward toward the floor of his loft. He suspected to find the loft dark and empty, but he could see a light glowing from under the door as he approached it. He smiled knowing he wouldn't be alone tonight, the fact that she had taken his suggestion warming his heart.

He quietly opened the door, placing his keys in the bowl on the small table next to door, trying to make as little noise as possible so not to disturb whatever she was doing. Her shoes were there, and the small lamp by the door was lighting the room, but Kate Beckett was nowhere to be found. He did a quick scan of the apartment; the only other room that had any sign of light was his office. He simply shrugged and headed toward the kitchen to grab a glass of water, before making his way into his bedroom. He desperately needed to lose the tie Gina had picked out for him and forced upon him when she picked him up that evening.

He continued his quiet journey around the loft, clearly she had not yet been alerted to his presence, that or she was choosing to ignore it, he wasn't sure which it was. He tiptoed his way to his study, he knew her well enough to know that there was no way she wouldn't hear him if he was any louder. The door was open a tiny crack, enough to let the light flood into the adjoining room, but not enough that any one who was curious could look in to see what was happening beyond the door. He opened it slowly, poked his head in slowly, and he couldn't help the smile that spread across his face.

There she was, wrapped up in the throw blanket that usually was kept on the living room couch, her hair up, sleep pants on, and what looked to be one of his t-shirts. She was curled up in a little ball, knees brought to her chest and toes curled into the leather of the sofa in the room. She had yet to look up at him, heck he wasn't sure she even knew he was there watching her. She had her nose buried in one of his books, Heat Wave to be exact. He watched as her eyes scanned over the pages, her right hand turning them as she went, as though it were on autopilot. He saw a smile grace her lips as she read; she was nearing the end of the book. He made his way fully into the room now, leaning against the wall next to the door, his eyes fixed on her, watching, intrigued by the way she was engrossed in the book, especially his book. He knew she had read it before, and now he wondered just how many times exactly. And how long had she been reading it this time.

"I know you are there," she said blankly, her focus still held by the book in her hands, turning another page as his eyes continued to sweep over the words he had written.

"Of course," he replied, pushing off the wall and closing the short distance between them, moving toward other end of the sofa, where her toes were curled into the leather, lifting them so he could sit and placing them on his lap as he did.

"I stole your copy a few days ago," she told him. "I hope you don't mind."

"Not at all, Kate. I figured you couldn't have started it tonight being that close to the end, but why Heat Wave?" He asked.

"It seemed like a good idea a few nights ago when I was skimming through your library." She replied, finally placing a bookmark in her spot in the book and setting it down on his desk. She moved her body closer to his on the couch, closing the distance between themselves and placed a light kiss upon his lips, barely there at all, but enough to let him know that he had been missed that evening, enough to tell him that she would have preferred been curled up with him, rather than the throw blanket, him reading over her shoulder as she went.

"How was your meeting?" she asked, staying curled up with him and he pulled her even closing and wrapped his arms around her.

"Long, tedious, boring," he began to list as she laughed lightly.

"Be happy, you got to skip out on paperwork," she told him.

"But I would rather sit and watch you do paperwork than have a dinner meeting with Black Pawn," he replied, his hand at her waist was now tracing patterns on her bare hip, thanks to it managing to sneak under his shirt that she wore.

"Sit and watch me do paper work?" she asked with a roll of her eyes. "More like distract me from it."

"I'm sorry my rugged handsomeness distracts you from your paper work detective, I would tone it down, but it's just not possible." He said stealing a kiss from her lips as he finished; she simply shook her head at him.

"Good try with getting me to feed your ego, but it's not happening. Just like trying to get you to help with paper work." She laughed.

He had missed this, the two of them curled up at the end of the day, the playful banter back and forth between them, and the stolen kisses. It had been far too long for his liking since they had done this. He couldn't remember the last time the two of them had come home and just sat, cuddled together, with playful conversation between the two of them. It had been a lot of late nights at the precinct, or coming home to grab dinner and crash into bed together after a long day.

Castle moved his other hand up to Kate's cheek, and brought his lips to her own. It was gentle at first, like they would do everyday, but the intensity grew between them. Castle's grip tightened on Kate's hip as the kiss intensified, her hands going into his hair; he felt her nails lightly graze his sculp. When they finally broke apart, both breathless and a little more dishevelled than when the kiss began, Castle could only smile, a small grin spread across his face as his eyes found hers.

"What was that for?" she asked him.

"I've missed this," Castle admitted.

"Me too," Kate agreed, her thoughts quickly trying to recall the last time they had spent a night like this, and coming up short. It really had been too long, so she was glad that for once she was out of the precinct at a normal hour, and even though Castle's dinner meeting had gone later than expected, that he was here now.

"I can't think of the last time we did this. Just sat here, talking about nothing of real importance, just enjoying each other's company. We need to do this more often, Kate."

She nodded in agreement; he could see she was clearly involved in her own thoughts.

"It's nice," she finally said. "Not worrying about anything. I mean not that I don't love coming home and making dinner together and trying to figure out whatever case we are working, or discussing plans or spending an evening Alexis of she's around or anything. But it's nice to just sit here and spend a little bit of time acting as if we don't have anything to do, or anywhere to be, just sitting, talking and being us." She felt him place a kiss into her hair, and snuggled a little closer to him, though it was barely possible considering how close they were already sitting together.

He felt her yawn as she cuddled into his chest; she stretched her body slightly before curling back into him.

"Tired?" He asked her, not able to stop the yawn that escaped him as well.

"Looks like that makes two of us," she said with a laugh. "Did you want to head to bed?" she asked him.

"It's only a little after ten, so not really." He replied, though she wasn't sure how much she believed him as she caught him trying to keep in a yawn once again.

"We can throw a movie on if you want," she suggested, but he shook his head.

"I'm good here, you can grab your book, finish it up."

"You just like watching me read for some strange reason," she replied.

"You're beautiful, Kate. I could sit here and watch you do anything, for hours."

"That will never not be creepy, Castle." She said, her voice lined with light laughter as she did.

"I'm okay with that," he replied.

She grabbed the book she had placed on his desk earlier, and the blanket to throw overtop of her legs before cuddling back into his chest. She felt him shift slightly, moving so that he too could read his words on the page from over her shoulder. They stayed like that for a while, neither caring that the hour grew late, but as Kate turned the last page and closed the book, she looked up at Castle to notice his eyes closed, his breathing was steady and she wondered how long ago he had fallen asleep and she had been the only one reading his words on the page.

She slowly untangled herself from him to put the book back in its place in his shelves. She would have to grab something new the next time she had a bit of free time and wanted to read. But with his library she was sure that she would never run out of books, and he was always adding to his collection.

She grabbed the glass of water he brought when he first found her in the study and took it to the kitchen, along with the throw blanket she had stolen from the living room couch.

She walked back to the study, figured she would he had woken up in his absence but he continued to sleep, he must be exhausted, she thought.

"Castle," she said quietly, running her fingers through his hair lightly. "Rick."

"Hmm," he replied groggily, his hand moving to rub his face. "What time is it?" He asked.

"Almost midnight," She answered. "I finished Heat Wave. Come to bed sleepy head."

He got up off the couch and stretched, wrapping his arms around her after he did so.

"Okay, but only because you asked so nicely." He said, his words laced with sarcasm.

"I don't have to ask nicely, you love me." She replied. Her hands were placed gently on his chest, his clasped at the small of her back.

"You're right." He concurred. "I do love you." He said, placing a kiss on her lips. "But calling me names will get you no where Katherine Beckett."

She laughed at his use of her full name.

"Fine," she sighed. "Let's go to bed, oh ruggedly handsome writer of mine." She added through her laughter.

"Much better," he agreed, placing another soft kiss to her lips before letting go of her and following her into his bedroom.

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><p><strong>So that is chapter 2! Hope you all aren't too confused about what is going on, and I promise that the way the story is structured and everything will come to light soon enough! Please let me know what you all thought, hit that little blue button just under this! <strong>


	3. Chapter 3: This Hard

**The Secret's in the Telling**

**Chapter 3: This hard**

**Disclaimer: I'm glad I don't write Castle, because I don't really think I would want this to actually happen on our beloved show.**

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><p>He sat in his loft, until he literally couldn't take it anymore; the ignored messages, lack of contact, the ache in his chest from not seeing her for this long, he simply could not take it any longer. He couldn't remember the last time they had gone this long without any contact. The summer he went to that Hamptons had to be it, over two years ago.<p>

He put his laptop on the desk with a sigh as he closed it. Writing was the last thing he wanted to do right now, he couldn't focus. How could he write when his world was crumbling to pieces around him. Everything he had known, ever wished for and wanted was being ripped away, and there was nothing he could do about it. He wanted to go back, back to the start of this all, he wanted to change what he did, stop regretting his actions, but he couldn't, it was too late.

He glanced at the clock, 5pm, usually they would just be getting home, or leaving the precinct, and yet here he was, sitting in his office, another day passing as he had gotten nothing accomplished. He couldn't live like this; he needed to do something, anything. He couldn't make the situation worse, that would be impossible, it was already more horrible than anything he could have imagine. He never would have thought he would be responsible for causing this, never could have imagined this turn of events, yet here they were.

He needed to go to her, he knew that if he could only get her to listen, get a chance to explain that he could make things better. She needed to understand why he did it, why he made these decisions, why he kept everything from her. He could sit here and question everything; much of what he had been doing for the past few days, running in circles in his mind, trying to think of a way to get to her, he kept drawing the same conclusion. He was unsure of it, he couldn't predict the outcome, couldn't begin to figure out what her reaction would be. But he had to try it; it really was his only option.

He had called, he had left texts for her, he had even asked Ryan and Espo if she was all right, if she was eating, if it looked like she was sleeping or spending far too much time at the precinct. He got little to nothing out of them, but it was something. If he couldn't be there to help her, no matter how much she demanded that she didn't need it, he was glad to know there were people there who could, and that he could try and have a small influence, even if second hand. He would take anything he could get at this point. He worried about her, had for years now. But it was easier when he was there to ensure she was okay. He had been dealt this hand before; it was all too familiar to him. He hated it, but what could he do but try and play with the cards he was dealt.

He got up, running a hand through his hair, musing over if he should really go through with this or not, but his decision was made. His feet were already moving him toward his bedroom to get dressed, look presentable, and head out the door. He was on autopilot, his mind racing with the possible consequences from this, even as he tried to push them away. The drive was short, he remembered nothing from it, he had driven it hundreds of time, he was sure of it, and it no longer took conscious thought process.

There was no light coming from under the door as he reached it, and he silently counted his blessings, he was sure she would still be at the precinct, any time he wasn't around she threw herself into work, it was the only thing she knew.

His key turned in the lock, he was glad she hadn't changed them; he considered the possibility, if she really did want to keep him out. It hadn't changed much, not since he had picked her up from it last, he could tell she wasn't spending much time there. Though she hadn't in months. He fridge was bare, a few Styrofoam containers, and some milk that had gone bad the past week. He debated going and picking some things up for her, but he knew that it would only be more cause against him, it wasn't wise. She had made it clear that she didn't need anyone to take care of her the last time they had spoken, though he was sure her words were out of anger. Her bed was unmade, a sign she had at least spent a night there recently, he was glad, as he assumed ninety percent of her time was spent at the precinct as of late. Espo said that he wouldn't know if she had returned home that week, she was their before either of the boys, and stayed after them, despite their words of worry and attempts to get her to head home, they had no success.

The laundry was piled in her hamper; she hadn't been there enough for it to bug her yet. She hated when it piled up, complaining that something she wanted to wear would be dirty, and she wished she had just done the load when she had the chance, instead of putting it off. It was her least favourite chore, he was sure of it. He tried once, jokingly of course, to convince her that she didn't have to do laundry, he could just buy her new clothes, as much as he was joking, she knew the tiny bit of seriousness to it, and she wasn't exactly please. Independent was an understatement when it came to Kate Beckett.

He heard noise faintly in her hall, his entire body tensing, considering the possibility it was her returning home, but he listened to the sound of the footsteps continue past her door.

What was he supposed to say to her? Where to begin? Would she even listen to him? So many questions, so many possibilities, and so many answers he wish he had, but they were impossible to know. He tried to make educated guesses, solve the puzzles that currently occupied his brain, but he had little success. He never would have thought that this situation would have lead to this, lead to the worst thing he could remember happening in his life in the immediate past.

He hoped she didn't simply kick him out, he hoped that she at least gave him a chance. He hoped even more she didn't shoot him. He left his shoes by the door, sat in her desk chair; she would realize he was there before she actually saw him. He toyed with his phone, should he try calling her again; tell her he was there? Maybe she would take the news better. Be prepared for it when she arrived home, but there was always the chance she would opt not to, tell him he had to leave or she wouldn't leave the precinct if he were still at her home. He would wait; he would sit and let his thoughts continue to play over and over in his brain until he had exhausted them. She had to be home at some point, he had known her to spend entire nights at the precinct before, but she tried not to if she could help it.

The ding of the elevator made him more aware of his surroundings a short time later. He had gotten himself a glass of water, and sat back down in her chair, simply waiting. He could hear the clack of her heals in the hall as she approached her door; he had no doubt that it was her. A deep breath was all he had time for before her key turned in the lock and she poured herself into her apartment.

She looked exhausted; he couldn't miss the bags under her eyes, the slight drag of her feet and the slouched posture she only ever carried when life had become too much for her. And then he watched the emotions cross her face, she toed of her heels next to his shoes, he heard the sharp intake of her breath, as he held his own.

She walked toward him, his cover blown, and he was frozen in place. He hated himself, he had done this to her, he had never seen her so run down in her life, not even when she had taken a bullet to the chest.

There were no words shared, she simply sat down on her couch, closed her eyes, and he was sure she was trying to comprehend the situation, decide what exactly to do with it. She got up still in silence, walked to her room, and he could hear the noise of her placing her gun and badge in the safe. Well there goes one of his possibilities; she wasn't planning on shooting him.

"What are you doing here?" She asked; after he heard her emit a loud sigh as she walked back into her main room, directly toward him this time.

"I needed to see you," he replied, he watched her run her hands through her hair.

"Kate, I just, I need a chance to explain, and you need to hear what I have to say."

"I don't." She replied. "That's the thing Castle, I don't need or want to hear what you have to say. It's the last thing I want. I can ignore your calls and your texts, but when you come into my apartment, when you corner me here, what am I supposed to do? You're not going to leave, I know you. But right now, Castle, the last thing I want to hear is another one of your apologies, another one of your speeches about how you want to explain, and how I don't know the story. Because I don't care, Castle. I would have, I should probably care, but this hurts too much. I can't deal with it. And I can't deal with you being here."

"Kate- I- I just-" he trailed off. What was he supposed to say when she had already made it clear, out and told him point blank that she didn't want to hear it.

"You just what, Castle?" She asked, her voice laced with anger, all of which he had become far too familiar for his liking with lately.

"You just thought it would be a good idea to use the key I gave you to let yourself into my home? What was your plan, Castle? You come in here, you apologize and things go back to normal? Did you really believe that's what would happen?"

"No," he replied with a sigh. "I didn't know what to expect Kate, but I know that I needed to do something. I haven't seen you over a week, the last words you said to me was that you could never trust me again. I had to do something, Kate. You've got to understand that. This was the only way I thought you would give me a chance."

"This isn't supposed to be this hard, Rick." She said, beginning to run her hands through her hair and sitting down on her couch.

He knew what he wanted to say, what he wanted to reply to her comment, but he also knew better than that. It would only make things worse. He was walking on eggshells already, he didn't need her more angry with him. He needed her to give him a chance, anything. Something that he could grasp with both his hands and refuse to let go of until they made it past this. They had to make it past this. They had been through more than most people would ever go through in their lives in the past few years, and this, he hoped, was nothing more than another bump in the road. This wouldn't end them, it couldn't.

"I just want you to go, Castle." Kate said, finally break the silence that had seemed to go on for eternity between them.

"Kate," he replied, sitting down on the couch next to her. "Don't do this, Kate. Not again."

All she did was look up at him; her eyes had been cast at the floor, hands in her hair, the ends of it hiding her face from him since she had sat down on the couch. Her eyes were filled with tears threatening to fall; he watched her, as she tried to blink them away with no success. This was the first time he got a chance he got to look at her, really look at her, since she had found him in her apartment. The bags under her eyes were worse than he originally thought, the worry lines that creased in her forehead looked as if they had taken a resident position there. She looked worse that he had expected. He wouldn't be surprised if she was getting less sleep than he was, though that was barely possible. He knew this would be taking a toll on her, but he never would have expected it to be this bad. He figured she would have pulled herself together more than this, that she would have locked it all away and moved on, but it no longer seemed to be the case.

"I'm sorry, Kate." He sighed. "So sorry." It was the first time he had uttered the words to her in person. He wished that he had said them earlier, that he had a chance to say them to her face and not to her answering machine all these times. He wished that they could make this all better, that he could tell her how sorry he was, she would believe him, and they could go back to the way things were.

She had yet to say anything in response. Her eyes were still filled with tears, and had been averted to the wall across from her couch. He glanced at the wall, wanting to know what her gaze was cast upon. He found his lips angling upwards, just the slightest bit, at his discovery. He couldn't be happy, happiness wasn't possible in this situation, but he assumed that this was the closest possible thing to it. The picture had been taken at Johanna's fundraiser. It was just a short time after they had decided to give things a shot, but before they had told everyone, though he was sure thanks to neither of them being able, or really wanting to keep their hands off each other that anyone who hadn't already figured it out, surely had that night.

It was one of his favourite pictures, his eyes cast upon her, hand at the small of her back and a grin spread across his face, his attention was on her and only her, while she listened to whoever was talking at the podium at the time, a ghost of a smile rest on her lips as well. That was what he needed, he knew that she had to be thinking what he was, back to the times when they were happy, and things were better. It was that small glimmer of light at the end of the tunnel, exactly what he needed to grasp onto.

"I need you to know that I love you, Kate. Nothing can change that. And I really am sorry," He said, getting up from his place on the couch next to her. "I can't begin to tell you how sorry I am. There aren't words to describe it." He cautiously brushed a few strands of hair behind her ear, catching her attention, turning her gaze to meet his own.

"I'm going Kate, I know you need space. But please remember that. I need you to know both of those, if nothing else." He crouched next to her, his hand moving to cup her cheek; he pressed his lips lightly to her temple, not willing to risk anything else. It was only for a second, one moment his lips were pressed against her skin and the next they were gone. It was as if she would have missed them if not paying attention. The feeling was something she missed; she hadn't realized it until now. She looked at him, her gaze full of understanding, more hope in her eyes than he had seen in far too long. She followed him to the door as he retrieved his coat and put on his shoes.

"I'm not running from this," She said as he opened the door. "I just need to put myself back together."

He nodded, he didn't have words to respond, he understood, but he wished that she would let him be there, let him help her get herself back together.

"Goodnight, Kate." He said as he disappeared out her door and shut it slowly. She stood there and stared at it for a good amount of time, letting her brain go over what had just happened. She wasn't happy about it, but she couldn't be mad either. She finally turned away from the door, walking numbly to her bedroom, changing her work clothes for pyjamas before crawling underneath her covers, pulling them up to her chin and hoping that sleep would consume her.

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><p><strong>As always, thank you everyone for your reviews and for adding alerts. I'm sorry for this taking forever, to say this chapter was easy to write would be an understatement. But I hope you guys liked it, and I hope to have next chapter up quicker than this last one.<strong>


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